


Pull Up To My Bumper, Baby

by zjofierose



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Bottom Shiro Week 2019, Clothed Sex, Cock Warming, College, Established Relationship, Face-Sitting, Fingerblasted, Keith is a grad student, Keith is competent and hot, M/M, Masturbation, Panties, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shiro (Voltron) is a Good Boyfriend, Shiro is an adjunct professor, Skype Sex, but that's all window dressing, mostly this is just porn, they go to a conference, unbeta'd we die like mne, zjo tries to remember how to write smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-10 14:44:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17427917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/pseuds/zjofierose
Summary: Adjunct Professor!Shiro and Grad Student!Keith attend a conference and celebrate bottom!Shiro week in a variety of ways. The end.





	1. Masturbation

“Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, babe,” Shiro scoots back on the bed, aiming the laptop so Keith can see him through the camera. “You’re coming through loud and clear.”

“Good,” Keith says, and smiles at the screen as he steps back. He must’ve set his laptop up on the kitchen table, Shiro thinks, judging by the background. It makes sense - gives him room to back up enough that he’s fully in frame while standing, room to pace a little. Shiro knows how he gets when he’s presenting, he needs some space to fidget. “I think I’m closing in on the final draft. I did what you said and printed it all out with visual spaces where I want to pause or click to the next slide.”

“Good job,” Shiro says earnestly, “I really think that’ll help. It’s too easy to rush through otherwise.”

Keith nods, fiddling with the papers just out of sight of the camera’s view, and Shiro gets comfortable on the bed. The hotel room is too warm for his liking, so he strips down to his boxer briefs, smiling when Keith notices.

“I thought I was just supposed to  _ imagine  _ everyone in their underwear,” Keith mutters, and Shiro laughs, scratching idly at his belly. He’d gotten to the hotel in the late afternoon, and given that he’s now two hours ahead of Keith, he’s had plenty of time to have a snack, hit the gym, and take a nice shower before their Skype date. Now he’s feeling lazy and self-indulgent.

“Come on, your audience is getting restless,” he teases, and Keith scowls, shuffling his papers together and stepping back.

“Okay,” Keith says and exhales in a huff, letting his eyes drift close for a moment before snapping them open, his face all business. “Here goes.”

Shiro rubs his fingers absently across his abs as Keith launches into the presentation. His greeting and opening are solid, he’s not rushing, he’s making good eye contact, such as it is. The touch of Shiro’s hand on his own skin is calming, and he traces little circles low on his stomach as he lets the gentle rasp of Keith’s voice rush over him. 

They’ve been together since college, Keith a freshman to Shiro’s junior, and the intervening seven years of grad school and Shiro’s adjunct professorship have done nothing to make him immune to the effect Keith’s voice has on his body. He can feel his dick starting to harden, and shifts on the bed, letting the lassitude build.

“Are you listening to me?” Keith interjects, and Shiro forces his eyes open. His hand is now under the elastic of his boxer briefs, huh. 

“Yes,” Shiro says, gently cupping himself, spreading his knees just a little for better access. His hand on his dick is comfortable, grounding. “You were at the part where you were laying out initial considerations for measuring circumstellar habitable zones.” 

“Mmhmm,” Keith agrees, but it sounds skeptical, and Shiro’s still too warm. He rolls over to tug his underwear off, and kneels up on the bed to toss them in the direction of the suitcase. He’s not quite sure whether the noise from the screen is Keith choking or swearing as Shiro accidentally-on-purpose moons the camera, but he turns to smile sweetly over his shoulder either way.

“Yes, dear?” Shiro says, fishing under his pillow for the lube. “You should keep going, I know you’re only on slide three.”

“My speciality is not orbital bodies, Shiro,” Keith grunts out, and Shiro snorts. 

“I’ll let you study  _ my  _ orbital body,” he smirks, sliding back down onto the bed, but resituating himself so that his shoulders are pressed against the headboard, a pillow plump against his lower back. He pulls the laptop up the bed and lets his knees fall open again, trying not to laugh as Keith closes his eyes in frustration. “Come on, baby, keep going. I’m just multitasking. _ ‘The previous primary consideration when extrapolating circumstellar habitable zones… _ ’”

“The previous primary consideration when extrapolating circumstellar habitable zones,” Keith picks up, and Shiro lets his hand grasp at his thickening shaft, hefting the weight of it in his fingers, giving it a soft pull. It feels good, and he bites his lip at the sensation, watching as Keith flicks into the next slide. Keith’s speeding up a little too much, which, admittedly, is probably Shiro’s fault, but. 

“You’re going too fast,” Shiro calls out, and Keith pauses long enough to nod, then starts back up again at a more sedate pace. Shiro lets his free hand wander down to lift and hold his balls, teasing himself with just the lightest of touches behind, grip still firm on his cock as he slides his hand slowly and firmly up and down. It’s been a long first half of the semester, and once this conference is over they’ve got a staycation booked for all of spring break that Shiro’s been looking forward to for months. They’re going to eat and sleep and fuck and catch up on some TV shows, and then do it all again, for  _ days _ , and Shiro honestly can’t wait. A week of Keith and their small apartment all to himself is basically his idea of paradise, especially as Keith nears the end of his MS and spends more and more time in the lab and less and less time with Shiro.

He pops the cap of the lube without ceremony, squeezing out a small amount onto the fingers of his non-dominant hand and catching his tongue between his teeth at the flush he can see rising in Keith’s cheeks. Shiro can only imagine what he looks like on the small laptop screen, cock full and flushed, legs spread wide. He runs his clean hand around the backs of his thighs, stroking through the sparse pale hair on his glutes, letting his fingers tangle in the softer hairs at the apex of his groin.

“Shiro,” Keith says, and his voice is strangled, “you are going to give me a very unfortunate Pavlovian response to these slides if you keep it up.”

Shiro shrugs, letting his eyes slip closed as he brings his slickened fingers around behind his balls, teasing delicate touches to delicate skin. “You’ll be behind a podium.”

“ _ Shiro _ ,” Keith hisses, and Shiro can’t help the laugh that breaks free. He opens his eyes, and the screen is filled with Keith’s face, beautiful as ever with his dark hair and sparking eyes. Shiro’s caught in a sudden burst of melancholy affection for the man caught in the pixelated picture, and he sits up a little, stretching his legs out so he can look Keith in the eye.

“I miss you, baby,” he says, and the annoyance in Keith’s expression clears like the sky after a storm. 

“I miss you, too, Shiro.” Keith sighs, and rubs a hand across his face. “You know I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“I know,” Shiro grumbles, “but you’re not here right now.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Okay. Well, just… carry on, I guess,” he waves a hand, “and I’m just gonna finish this, and then…”

“And then?” Shiro can’t help the eagerness in his tone, and Keith’s responding smile is a little less stressed. 

“And then probably I’ll take a shower and fall asleep because my fucking plane is at five thirty in the morning, but we’ll see okay?”

“Okay,” Shiro says, leaning back again and letting himself getting comfortable. “Pick it back up again where you were talking about defining habitability parameters.”

Keith shuffles his papers, and then his speech starts up with the practiced rise and fall of formal information delivery. Shiro lets his eyes fall closed, lets the sound of Keith’s voice surround him, comforting in its utter familiarity. He’s always loved Keith’s voice, always found it an immense turn-on when Keith will talk him into and through sex, the soft dirty rush of it in his ear. 

He’s fully hard, but he doesn’t do anything about it, just lets his cock lie on his belly in the warmth of the room, pulsing occasionally with arousal as he focuses on steady, deep breathing, the push and pull of air through his body, the rush of blood from his fingers to his toes, from his throat to his groin. The fingers of his left hand reach back again, and he pulls his foot higher on the bed so that he can reach himself better, just tracing his finger around the edge of his hole. 

He imagines it’s Keith’s hand on him, and groans softly into the artificial quiet of the room, the sound echoing in the space between sentences. Keith’s fingers are long and thin, but unexpectedly strong and nimble, roughly callused from metal and his motorcycle and dextrous in devastating ways. Shiro has an unabashed competence kink, and the first time he’d watched Keith soldering a flight console for a department test flight, he’d nearly come in his pants. He loves it when Keith runs his hands over him, presses into his muscles and touches him in all his secret places, loves it when Keith uses his grip to take Shiro apart, his careful strength to shape him back together again. 

Shiro twists on the bed, his body thrumming with eagerness, and forces himself to recenter, to drag the air in and slowly out of his lungs, in through the nose, out through the mouth. He lets his conscious thoughts fall away in favor of sensation, his free hand roaming the topography of his own torso as he slips just the tip of his middle finger within himself, holding it steady as an anchor against the tidal pull of Keith’s voice on his body. He rubs across his nipples, teasing briefly, but abandons the tease in favor of stroking long and firm up and down his chest, his side, his thighs. His next exhale is shakier, the heat mounting within him as his foot presses restlessly down against the sheets, the tip of his finger just barely pressing around his rim, light and inexorable.

“ _ Keith _ ,” he says, eyes still closed, and the tremor in his voice catches him off guard. He’s been working himself up so slow he hadn’t realized how close he was to the edge, but now all he can do is breathe and tremble. 

“Yeah, baby?” Keith asks, his voice calm and sweet, close to the camera and a balm to Shiro’s neediness. “What do you need?”

“I need  _ you _ ,” Shiro whispers, pressing his cock against his stomach with his hand, the pressure of it making fireworks go off behind his eyes as his second finger traces around where the first disappears into his body.

“You’ve got me,” Keith says firmly, “I love you, Shiro. Come on, baby, you can do it.”

Shiro comes with a punched out gasp, shivering from head to toe as the aftershocks ripple through him.

“Good,” he hears Keith crooning through the computer, “so good, Shiro. I love watching you like this, you’re so beautiful when you get yourself all worked up.”

Shiro hums softly in response, already feeling his body slide into total relaxation. He can feel himself sinking into the mattress, head lolling against the pillow.

“Baby, you need to clean yourself up,” he hears Keith say, and he forces himself upright, flails obediently around for his underwear until he can grab them and wipe himself down before tossing them away again. 

“That’s good,” Keith tells him, tone firm but pleased. “Now go ahead and get under the sheet, you’ll feel better when you wake up later if you do.”

It seems like a lot of effort, but he does as he’s told, and even manages to summon up enough energy to reach over and switch off the bedside lamp before dragging the laptop up to position it on the pillow next to him. 

“That’s right,” he hears Keith say, and Shiro sighs happily. “Just like that. I’ve got five more slides I need to talk through, but you go ahead and rest.”

Shiro makes a contented noise, eyes already shut and face lax. “Okay,” he says softly, and shoves his face further into the pillow.

“There are many previously unconsidered factors…” he hears Keith begin, and lets himself drift into oblivion, cradled by the sound of Keith’s voice. 


	2. Fingerbang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second prompt: Fingerbanging/Fingerblasting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am late, but I come bearing porn!

Shiro wakes around seven to Keith sliding under the covers and snuggling up to him, pressing his body in close and shoving freezing cold feet into the backs of Shiro’s knees. He grumbles and rolls over, squashing Keith completely beneath his bulk and pretending not to hear the indignant squawks coming from beneath him. It only takes a minute for Keith to wriggle free, all grumpy frown and ridiculous hair, but Shiro can see the laughter hiding in the corner of his mouth. 

“Hey,” Shiro says, leaning in to kiss him before Keith can get a word out, “glad you made it.”

“Hmph,” Keith shoves him back under the covers, pulling them up around his neck and shoving his feet back against Shiro’s legs. They’re warmer now from the friction of kicking against the sheets as Shiro pinned him, but still chilly. Shiro allows it. “What time’s your first thing?”

“Not till noon. Registration, and then the welcome address over lunch at one.” Shiro murmurs, nuzzling his face into Keith’s neck. “The alarm’s set for nine thirty.”

“Awesome,” Keith shifts around until he’s got the pillow just where he wants it, then lets loose a massive yawn. “Fucking early flights.”

“Mm,” Shiro answers, “ _ sleep _ ,” and Keith finally settles, his breath warm on Shiro’s head.

\--

The next time Shiro comes awake is to the sound of Keith swearing at the alarm as he smacks it off. It’s an endearingly familiar scene, Keith halfway emerged from his blanket cocoon to swat angrily at the innocuous machine until it ceases its terrible noise. His lithe but well-toned chest is directly in front of Shiro’s face, and Shiro doesn’t bother trying to resist the urge to close the two inches between them and  _ lick _ . 

Keith falls back to the mattress with a gasp, alarm blessedly silent, and Shiro yanks the covers back up over them both, dragging Keith up against him and savoring the rub of their bare skin. 

“Good morning to you, too,” Keith says dryly, but his lips are twisting with affection, and Shiro has to lick them, too, breathing in the scent of Keith’s warm skin as he goes. The smell of Keith always does something to Shiro’s hindbrain, something to do with pheromones he assumes, because it’s as though the scent of Keith’s skin, his hair, it reaches in to Shiro and grounds him, makes him equal parts calm and exhilarated and full of joy. They’re grown-ups, they understand and can handle that they sometimes have to be apart, but it’s not something either of them enjoys, and Shiro’s determined to enjoy their reunion as much as possible.

Keith must be having similar thoughts, because his mouth opens to Shiro’s without hesitation, tongue twisting against Shiro’s as they fall together, his hand reaching down to grasp at Shiro’s thickening length. “Yeah?” Keith asks breathlessly, and Shiro hikes his knee up over Keith’s hip in wordless response, prompting a deep groan as Keith’s own erection is pressed up against Shiro’s belly.

“Missed you,” Shiro whispers, pressing his nose against Keith’s temple, then moving his mouth down to nibble at the lobe of Keith’s ear. The heat is building between their bodies, their hips rocking slow but steady in synchronized counterpoint, each against the other. Keith gets a hand under Shiro’s knee and pulls his leg up higher, tracing his fingers down along the back of Shiro’s thigh until he reaches the curve of Shiro’s ass, which he palms delightedly.

“Missed you, too,” he says, sliding a finger down Shiro’s cleft, making him arch and gasp with the sparks of pleasure that zip through his body at Keith’s confident touch. “What do you want, baby?”

“Your hands,” Shiro gasps out without hesitation, and Keith’s dick throbs against him, “spent all last night thinking about your hands.”

“Yeah?” Keith’s voice is heavy and his grip on Shiro’s leg is sharp and possessive as he drags it higher up, hooking the bend of Shiro’s knee up above the crest of his hip bone. It pulls the muscles in Shiro’s legs and groin tight, and traps his cock beneath Keith’s balls, which is its own special kind of torture Shiro realizes as it rubs up against Keith’s soft, warm skin. “Tell me.”

“I pretended it was you,” Shiro bites out, fighting the distraction of the steady slide of Keith’s hand back down his glute, “pretended it was your hand on me, your fingers in me.”

Keith gets his bottom arm up under Shiro’s head and guides Shiro’s face to nestle in his clavicle, bending his elbow and twisting his fingers into the back of Shiro’s hair. Shiro mouths mindlessly across the skin in front of him, biting down involuntarily as Keith’s finger finds his rim and traces it, firmer than his own touch had been but still tantalizingly fickle. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” Shiro breathes, “I love your hands, you know that. Love the way you get your fingers on me.”

“Fuck,” Keith says, slipping his index finger in to the first knuckle, “ _ Fuck _ , Shiro, you’re still wet.”

Shiro hums with pleasure, sucking on Keith’s collar bone. He can feel the slide of Keith’s finger within him, easy and slow where he’s still slick from the night before. “Wet for you,” he says, and Keith’s whole body tightens against him. “Didn’t want to get cleaned up, wanted to stay ready for you.”

Keith growls in his his ear and slides another finger home, reaching deep and strong, making Shiro’s head tip back as he moans in response. It feels so much better when it’s Keith, he can reach places Shiro can’t, and Shiro can let himself fall into the sensations, floating on the waves of pleasure the ripple through his body as Keith’s fingers pick up the pace. 

“Did you want me to come in and take you while you slept?” Keith’s voice is low and rough, and  _ fuck _ , that’s not something that they’ve done in a while, but now Shiro  _ does  _ kind of want that, thank you very much. “Want me to spread your knees and slide in? Want to wake up with my cock shoved up in you, with me fucking you awake?”

Shiro whines, his hands clutching at Keith’s back and arm, knee stretching ineffectually up toward Keith’s armpit in an attempt to make himself more open, more available to Keith’s questing fingers. “Yeah,” he groans as Keith slides in a third, the stretch finally starting to sting in all the best ways as the pads of Keith’s finger rub demandingly across his sensitive insides. “Wanted to be full of you, wanted to feel your come inside me. Wanted to hold it there and keep it until you’re ready to go again, wanted to be dripping for you.”

He’s babbling, he knows, but Keith’s hand is thrusting hard and it’s making him lose all sense. He can feel Keith’s cock firm and slick against his stomach and presses his body harder against Keith’s, making a tighter friction that has Keith moaning into Shiro’s hair. 

“ _ Christ _ , Shiro, you’re just…” Keith’s voice tightens and Shiro can hear the clack of his teeth clenching as he comes against Shiro’s stomach, his lean body tensing and wet heat spilling against Shiro’s sternum and belly. Shiro’s own cock clenches painfully, trapped as it is between Keith’s thighs, but it’s the perfect counterpoint to the escalating pleasure as Keith’s fingers pick up their speed. 

“Keith,” Shiro whispers, and he can feel the blunt tip of Keith’s last finger pressing against his rim as the other three drag forcefully in and out, “Keith,  _ please _ .”

“Come on, baby,” Keith pulls him impossibly closer, curling his last finger into place with the other three, and oh, there, that’s what Shiro needed. He clutches desperately at Keith’s shoulders, eyes tightly closed and breath rattling in his chest as Keith’s hand picks up speed until it’s keeping a brutal pace. “Gonna come for me, sweetheart? Gonna show me how much you missed me? How much you wanted me here?”

Shiro comes like a freight train, fireworks exploding behind his eyes as his body grasps at Keith’s, the fingers in his ass working him through it, slowing gently to a stop as Keith’s other hand strokes soothingly through his hair. Shiro pulls his head back carefully, noting the red mark on Keith’s clavicle where he’d pressed his forehead hard as he came. He kisses it gently in apology, and can feel Keith chuckle softly above him.

“Good?” Keith asks, and Shiro sighs in bliss, letting his muscles go limp. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Keith laughs, carefully freeing his hand. “You want to sleep a little longer, or you want to get up and take a shower?”

“Hmm,” Shiro thinks about it for a long moment. He’s still tired, and there’s nowhere he’d ever rather be than in a bed with a naked Keith in his arms, but. He’s all sweaty now, and his ass is squelching unpleasantly. “Shower,” he sighs finally, but rolls onto his back and drags Keith on top of him, pressing a kiss onto his forehead. “But in a minute. Ok?”

“Yeah,” Keith answers, and rubs his head up under Shiro’s chin and wiping his hand on the sheet, shifting until he’s comfortable. “Ok.”


	3. With Clothes On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is anxious before a presentation. Keith helps him calm down.

“You’re gonna strangle yourself with that tie if you keep messing with it.”

Keith’s mostly kidding, but the morose expression on Shiro’s face only intensifies as he pulls his hands away from the knot at his neck, and Keith’s immediately sorry he said anything. 

They’re in a small, generic, all-purpose room just behind the auditorium, waiting for the presentation preceding Shiro’s to finish. The mingled scent of stale coffee and dry-erase markers hangs heavy in the air, but Keith can still smell Shiro’s soap and aftershave as he draws close. 

“Hey,” he says, loosening Shiro’s tie and straightening the knot before sliding it up into place. He presses a brief kiss to the corner of Shiro’s mouth and catches him as he leans forward to crash into Keith’s shoulder. “Why are you so worked up about this? You’ve given this talk before, you know your results inside and out.”

Shiro exhales, his breath humid through the thin fabric of Keith’s chambray. “I’m not really sure?” he ventures, his hands settling around Keith’s waist and pulling him into a loose hug. Keith goes along obligingly, looping his arms around Shiro’s neck and letting Shiro hide his face. “I guess the whole tenure thing just got a lot more real. Like, I know they’re not anywhere close to a decision, and there’s a lot to consider, but most of my committee is in that audience, and it’ll be the first presentation I’m giving since the committee’s been formed.” He rubs his forehead hard into Keith’s shoulder, and Keith drags his hands firmly up and down Shiro’s back, letting the repetitive sensation help ground him. 

Shiro straightens after a moment, clearly trying to pull himself together, but Keith can see where his hands are still shaking. Sometimes Shiro gets in his head too far, lets his anxiety get the best of him, and even if he can muscle through it, it’s better if Keith can help him find a way to come down a bit before he works himself into a real state. 

Keith thinks for a moment, glances at the printed out order of speakers taped near the door. 

“Babe,” Keith says, “I want to help you relax. Does that sound okay?”

Shiro bites his lip and fidgets. “Do you think we have time?”

“Yeah. Slav just started five minutes ago, and he always goes long. We should be fine.”

“What if someone comes in?”

Keith flips them around so that Shiro’s the one with his back to the room, and scoots sideways until he’s got his shoulder blades firmly pressed against the door. If anyone tries to open it, they’ll not only have warning, but the interloper will have the bulk of Keith’s body to move before they can get in. He spreads his legs and pushes firmly down on Shiro’s shoulder, watching as Shiros eyes widen and he drops to his knees like his strings have been cut. 

“Yeah, baby,” Keith says softly, unzipping his slacks and pulling himself out through the gap in his boxers, “just like that.” He’s not fully hard, but Shiro doesn’t care, never cares, just leans in to take Keith in his mouth, warm and wet and tight with nerves. Keith hisses at the sensation, and Shiro softens his mouth, eyebrows tipping up in apology.

“That’s it,” Keith says, stroking a hand over Shiro’s hair, then anchoring it into the longer strands at the top. “I want you to forget everything else. I want you to listen to my voice, and nothing else, do you understand?”

Shiro nods, his shoulders already slumping as he gives himself over to Keith’s control, hollows his mouth and lets his head be tipped back just a little so Keith can see himself disappearing into Shiro’s full mouth. Yeah, staying within the time limit is not going to be difficult, Keith thinks, and strokes over Shiro’s cheek with his other hand. 

“You’re so good,” Keith says, and Shiro suckles contentedly, his cheeks pinking up and his eyes going half-lidded in pleasure as he runs his tongue in random patterns around Keith’s shaft. “You’ve done so well getting invited to present your research here. You’re the youngest tenure-track candidate at Altea University, and it’s because you’re so smart and so diligent. Do you know that?”

Shiro falls into a rhythm, his lips wrapped firm and hot around Keith’s now fully hard length, eyes falling closed as he takes his comfort in regulating his breathing and focusing on the weight on his tongue. Keith lets his head knock back against the door, shifting his grip in Shiro’s hair to hold his head still as Keith begins to move his hips in shallow thrusts. Shiro’s mouth is sinfully good, always has been, from the very first time he’s swallowed Keith down. Keith is weak for the sight of Shiro on his knees. 

“You’re the best in the department, you have been since before you finished your doctorate. Everyone knows it, knows how dedicated you are, how meticulous,” he steadies himself, swallowing hard. "Everyone out there is going to be waiting to hear what you have to say, because they respect you."

Keith's hips are moving faster now, and he can feel the pleasure burning in the base of his spine, building in his belly as Shiro tightens the pull of his mouth around him. Shiro’s body language is relaxed, eyes shut and body given over as he loses himself in Keith’s pleasure, but it could still be better, Keith thinks, he could still be just a little more gone. Keith wants this for Shiro, wants him to feel safe, free, secure and cared for, to forget all about his nerves and his preoccupations, so he drags his free hand down Shiro’s face and taps on his cheek.

“Eyes open, babe. I want you to watch me.”

Shiro’s dark eyes fly open and fix on Keith’s face like a laser, his gaze worshipful, and Keith can barely keep it together long enough to grit out, “I’m just so fucking  _ proud  _ of you, baby,” before he’s coming with a muffled groan down Shiro’s throat. 

Shiro swallows, cleans him carefully with his tongue, then remains motionless as Keith pulls himself out of Shiro’s mouth and tucks himself away. Keith zips his pants and strokes Shiro’s cheek, taking a quick look to confirm that, yes, it’s as he thought- Shiro was way past nerves and well into “too anxious to pop a boner” territory, so he’s safe to go on stage. His face, though… Keith rubs the pad of his thumb across Shiro’s bottom lip, then leans in to kiss him long and soft, pulling away in spite of Shiro’s soft whimper. 

“Come on, baby, up you get,” he says, and pulls on Shiro’s biceps until he staggers to his feet, then props him against the door. There are some stale-looking crackers and cookies on the table across the room, and a beverage dispenser with cups. He grabs an oatmeal raisin cookie and a cup of tepid water, and comes back to put them in Shiro’s hands. There’s a sudden burst of applause from the auditorium which means Slav’s also finished, but he’ll be taking questions next. They still have a few more minutes to get Shiro back to reality before he has to go out there. 

“Eat,” he says, and Shiro obediently raises the cookie to his mouth and takes a bite, following it with a swig of water. Keith adjusts his tie yet again, and fusses with his hair until it looks less like someone’s just been grabbing it. “Feel better?” he asks, and Shiro just smiles slow and calm.

“Yeah,” he says, and clears his throat. Thank God, Keith thinks, he doesn’t sound like he’s been sucking dick, and they were quick enough his mouth isn’t a giveaway either. He did good work here. “Yeah, I do.” Shiro leans in and presses a kiss to Keith’s cheek, chaste and sweet and perfect. “Thank you.”

Keith ducks his head, knowing it won’t hide his blush. 

“You’re welcome.”

**Author's Note:**

> mercy, why is writing smut so much harder than it looks? ugh. also, sorry, I think I accidentally got some feelings in here. 
> 
> (there is a terrible, *terrible* science joke buried in here, and I will award 10 points to the house of whomever gets it.)


End file.
